She whispers
by CaleighWho
Summary: A one-shot about Lorraine and how she coped with growing up in a homophobic community from the ages of 5 – 32. Contains Lorraine/Nikki and a little bit of violence. Inspired from 'Dancing in the rain' by TheDemonsAreInside. Read and review :')


**A short one-shot about Lorraine and how she coped with growing up in a homophobic community from the ages of 5 – 32. Inspired from 'Dancing in the rain' by TheDemonsAreInside. Check out the fic, it's amazing! **

**Enjoy, and please leave a review as they boost my confidence a bit :') x**

* * *

I sit with her, my head in her lap, her long slender fingers softly stroking my blonde locks. We're supposed to be watching some stupid soap show on telly, but I'm too consumed in my own thoughts. I'm thinking about my life, and how it could have been different if my parents had accepted me all those years ago. I'm remembering how perfect my life was before they found out about me.

And suddenly I'm five again, sitting with my parents at the dinner table. Sonya is a little younger than me. Two, maybe three, years old. And we are all happy, because it's Christmas, and people are always happy at Christmas. My mum and my dad are laughing at some silly joke in the Christmas crackers, and of course, me and Sonya laugh with them, despite the fact that we don't understand the joke. The doorbell goes, and I'm jumping off my chair as my mother answers the door, letting my grandma and aunty in. I'm smiling like an idiot at them, because I only get to see them once a year, at Christmas. My nana hugs me, and sits me on her lap in the armchair that granddad used to sit on before he passed away. And she tucks a strand of my stringy blonde hair behind my ear, and she smiles at me before saying. "_I love you_."

I'm eight and riding my bike around the park with my mum and my friend Ellie. We have a few races, before going to the chip shop for dinner. Ellie was my best friend at the time. She would come to mine for dinner at least once a week. We got on perfectly. Ellie didn't have a mum like I did, her mum abandoned her when she was born. Left her with her father. But maybe that was for the best. Because _everything happens for a reason_, right? We went back home for an hour or so, I remember me and Ellie playing hide and seek with Sonya. But our fun was soon stopped when Ellie's dad came to pick her up and take her home. She hugged me tightly before she left. "Thank you for dinner, Loz." Ellie spoke so sweetly. "_I love you_."

Eleven years old, and I'm just about to start high school. My stomach churning as I enter the gates of the scummy school, Ellie close beside me, our hands touching for a brief moment. And I know that the next 5 years of my life were going to be tricky. Making sure my grades were high, at least above a 'D', so my mum would be proud of me. Trying to fit in and be cool to avoid the bullies. Just the thought of it scared me. But I got through the first day of school, I even made some friends, and they were proper cool. I felt happy and accepted here. And I went home and bragged to mum and dad about how I was friends with all the popular kids. They were pleased that I had made friends. When Sonya got home from school, she hugged me tightly, told me how much she missed sitting with me at break times. Then she kissed my cheek and said, "_I love you_."

Now I'm fourteen, stood behind the bike sheds, watching as Ellie smokes her life away. We're alone, and I like that. I can be myself when we're alone. I don't have to act different to 'fit in'. She understands me. We're bunking lesson, because we hate science, and we'd rather spend our day smoking and chatting behind some rusty old bikes. But I don't mind, I'd do anything for her. And I think she knows that because she's smiling at me madly as I babble on about how much I love our chats, and how much I appreciate her. Suddenly, I feel her hand on my cheek, pulling my face closer to hers, and then our lips are touching. Softly and slowly at first, but then it progresses into something more passionate and our tongues take over. We're caught up in lust and love, and it feels right. And now I realise why all my relationships with boys have ended so miserably. And I wish that I had realised it ages ago. Because as we pull away, she whispers, "_I love you_."

And I'm sixteen, and sat in the girls toilets and trying to scrub the word 'DYKE' off my forehead. Trying to stop my lip from bleeding and my tears from flowing. But it's not working, because the more I try, the more I fail. I try to think back to when this first started; the constant bullying, the morning beatings. It happened about two years ago, when me and Ellie were caught kissing in the playground. I wish it had never happened. Because since that day, my whole life has turned to shit. Ellie stopped talking to me, and she spreaded some bullshit rumour that I kissed her and she didn't want me to. But that's not true, _she kissed me_. My parents got a phone call from Mr Byrne the same day, telling them that I had failed to show up to his lesson. And of course, they were mad and angry. They demanded me to tell them why I wasn't there. So I did. I told them the truth; that I was with a girl, kissing her behind the bike sheds. And I wish I hadn't told them the truth. Because since that day, nobody has said those three special words. "_I love you_."

Twenty-one and I'm stood behind all my family members, watching them bury my dad. Crying. They're all crying. But I'm not. Inside I'm smiling. I'll never have to look at that man again. The man that hit me for 'sinning'. The man that stopped me from going out with my female friends, in fear that I would sleep with one of them. The man that told me I deserved every punch I got from the bitches at school. A part of me wants to be at the front of the crowd, so I can say a proper goodbye. But I've been forced to stay at the back. My mum told me that my family don't want anything to do with me, because I've got the devil inside of me. Because I made a mistake. Because I've sinned. I look over to Sonya who is sobbing her heart out. And for a moment I feel human again, because I'm feeling an emotion. I feel sad. Sonya shouldn't have to be burying our father at her age; she's only nineteen. I smile at her, a smile of sympathy. And she frowns at me. "What are you doing here?" She spits between desperate gasps for air. "_I hate you_."

Twenty-six and I've made a million. Actually, I made more than a million. I'm a multi-millionaire! Yet, I'm still sat alone in a bar, a bottle of red wine clutched tightly in my hand, my eyes checking out women from afar. And I see a woman looking back at me, a suggestive smirk making its way onto her face. And I want her. Oh god, I want her. I want to feel her skin against mine. I want to hear her scream my name. I want to wake up with her in my arms. But I can't. And so I look away, forcing myself to act straight. To pretend to be what I'm not. And I allow a guy to take me home that night, and I allow myself to wake up in his bed the next morning. And I tell myself that this is what I want, it's what I _need_. But it doesn't work, no matter how many times I tell myself I like men, I can't believe it. So I tell the poor lad that I slept with last night. I tell him that I don't want anything to do with him, that I'm a mistake and that he'd be better off without me. And he's pulling the same face that Sonya did all those years ago, at dad's funeral. He chucks my jacket at me in a pathetic rage. "_I hate girls like you_."

Twenty-nine and I'm starting to give up on myself. Finally giving in to the fact that I'm a sinner. I've failed God and he will punish me in hell. And maybe that's what I deserve. Maybe that's why I have no friends, and everyone hates me. Maybe that's why I suffered years and years of both physical and verbal abuse from the people who are supposed to love me. I'm so screwed up in the head that I can't hear myself think as I walk down the street towards the church with Sonya. She promised that she's going to help me change, that she's going to 'fix me'. I don't see how I can be fixed when I'm already this broken. And as we approach the church I hear people stood outside, chanting some crap about God and homosexuals. And they're yelling at two girls walking hand in hand down the street. Yelling at them about how God hates them and how they will be punished for what they've done. Then they look at me, and I'm totally oblivious to the fact that I'm clutching onto Sonya's hand, unwilling to let go. And, of course, they assume we're 'together', and a tall man with a white-ish beard - not too dissimilar to the one my father had - yells, "_God hates you_."

I'm thirty-two and hopelessly staring at a gorgeous woman beneath me; her eyes squeezed tight as she moans my name. I'm thirty-two and I'm allowing myself to sin, because after all this time, I've finally realized that I'm doing nothing wrong. I'm thirty-two and giving in to all temptations and kissing her passionately, a strand of my blonde locks falling down my face and allowing Nikki to gently tuck it behind my ear. I'm thirty-two and I've been accepted by someone. Someone actually likes me for who I am. I'm thirty-two and collapsing onto the bed next to my _girlfriend_. Our breathing in time. Our hands entwined. She turns to look at me before softly pressing her lips against my neck, and nibbling on my ear. She whispers sweet words to me. Words that make my face light up the room. Because I haven't heard those words since I was fourteen. And it feels good to hear them again. All those years of nobody saying those words to me suddenly mean nothing, because _she_ spoke them. All those years of crying myself to sleep because I believed what they told me - about how I was going to be punished in hell - means nothing to me, because she whispered the words that I thought I'd never hear again.

I'm thirty-two and she whispers, "_I love you_."

* * *

**Let me know what you think of this fic; I love feedback. Thank you so much for reading it xoxo**


End file.
